


Come Over

by shesgottheknife



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Masturbation in Shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shesgottheknife/pseuds/shesgottheknife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the RP with my Dean and Fizz's Crowley in which Dean hooks up with Crowley when he realizes that Crowley is literally the only one who wants to pay him any kind of attention.</p>
<p>And also inspired by Kenny Chesney's "Come Over"</p>
<p>
  <i>You can say we’re done the way you always do</i>
  <br/><i>It’s easier to lie to me than to yourself</i>
  <br/><i>Forget about your friends, you know they’re gonna say</i>
  <br/><i>We’re bad for each other, but we ain’t good for anyone else</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>I told you I wouldn’t call, I told you I wouldn’t care</i>
  <br/><i>But baby climbing the walls gets me nowhere</i>
  <br/><i>I don’t think that I can take this bed getting any colder</i>
  <br/><i>Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Over

Dean let the hot water hit the top of his head and cascade down his back. The tiles were an icy contrast against his forearms. He was trying to take his mind off a couple nights ago, but every time he closed his eyes or let his mind drift off, the only thing he saw was Crowley.

_I was drunk. These things happen. It was a one time deal-- well... not a deal... sonofabitch_.

Over and over, he repeated those words and multiple variations until his fist hit the tile in... rage? Passion? What was that anyway?

~~Judging from the erection he now had, he was going to go with passion.~~

_Dean Winchester, you cannot be thinking about Crowley like this_.

But he was. Oh, he was. Crowley had been the only person lately to show Dean any kind of respect. He also seemed to be the only one who gave a shit, what with Charlie gone and Sam trying to get the douche of the year award. And where the fuck was Cas, anyway?

The only person who wanted to even _talk_ to Dean at the moment was Crowley.

So when he showed up with a "prezzie" in the form of a bottle of his favourite Craig, Dean hadn't turned him away. The hunter was already pretty drunk when the King of Hell arrived with his stupid smooth talking and his ridiculous accent ~~in a voice that sounded like pure sex~~.

Dean wrapped his hand around his cock at the memory of Crowley _purring_ into his ear as he leaned over the back of the couch, the demon's lips brushing against his neck, and his hand stroking over the eldest Winchester's crotch through his jeans.

It should never have even started... 

but it did.

Dean had surprised himself (and Crowley, to be honest) when _he_ had been the one to slam their lips together, to pull the demon onto his lap by the ridiculous paisley tie he always wore.

Dean stroked himself faster. He swore he could still feel Crowley's hands brushing against his belly as he undid the hunter's belt, then the pants.

He rested his head against his forearm as he imagined Crowley's mouth on his dick once more, the demon's hands on his thighs, sneaking up higher and higher, underneath his shirt, fiddling with his nipples before the King of Hell switched positions in an instant and lowered himself onto Dean's aching cock.

And _that_ to the list of things Dean never would've thought he'd do.

Crowley had been gentle and understanding and very helpful throughout the entire ordeal and to be honest, Dean didn't remember a lover he had that was so intent on making sure _he_ was enjoying himself as much as his partner was.

The hunter's breaths were picking up, and damn, he wished Crowley was here right now to lend a hand.

His mind flashed back to the sight on Crowley on his lap, riding him for all he was worth, arms braced on the back of the couch. He had told Dean he didn't have to even touch the demon's dick if he didn't want, but Crowley was so tight and hot and _fuck it_ they were in this together. Dean had grabbed the King's cock (the way he grabbed his own now) and jacked him hard.

The demon had moaned loudly in pleasure as Dean's hand twisted up and down on his shaft. Dean wasn't sure how long this all went on, but it felt like an eternity before he pulled Crowley down by his tie again, bringing his the demon's ear to his lips. "Bite me," he growled.

Crowley let his scruff rub against the hunter's before his teeth scraped down Dean's neck. Another rather threatening growl from the Winchester, urging the demon to _just fucking do it_ and Crowley was sinking his teeth into Dean's neck **hard**.

It didn't even occur to Dean that it was a bad, bad idea to let a human blood addicted demon bite the fuck out of his neck and draw blood.

The place where Crowley had torn into him was still bruised, still throbbing at the memory of it happening. Everything else was a haze; the demon had come first, growling curses against Dean's neck. It was hot... it was.. _fuck_. It was certainly enough to drive the hunter over the edge, spilling deep inside the demon. It felt good - **god** had it felt good. 

Dean's hand jacked his cock _hard_ and as he came all over the tiles on the wall, he muttered the same thing he had that night. 

_Fuck... Crowley..._

A couple of hours and a half a bottle of whiskey later, Dean fiddled with his phone, scrolling through the contacts, pretending he wasn't looking at Crowley's number.

~~He wanted to call but he said he wouldn't.~~

_"You know this is a one time thing, right?"_

_"Sure it is, Squirrel." A wink and Crowley was gone._

Another quarter of the bottle down and Dean texted the King of Hell two simple words: _Come over_.


End file.
